Running dogs

When I was a single gal, I bought a house and then immediately thereafter set about getting a dog. I had these fantasies of me and my dog and how we’d go running together and how he’d save me from the rogue mountain lion that prowled the mean streets of Omaha.  So my mom and I set off for the animal shelter and I saw this guy.  As all the other dogs barked and jumped around like crazy, this little white dog just sat there quietly and looked cute.  I decided I wanted to get to know him and so we took him outside and he seemed interested in us but didn’t jump all over us or try to run away.  Obviously, I thought, this is the dog of my dreams.  And that’s how I got Skippy.  Now that you have a rosy picture painted let me tell you a few more things about Skippy.

All that looking cute and not barking – TRICKERY! They must have had a “how to get adopted” seminar at the shelter and he paid attention very closely.  That would be the last time he would listen to anything other than the words “treat, car, or ice cream.”  And the barking? We took him over to my mom’s house to meet her dog and he promptly started barking and he hasn’t stopped for the last 8 years.

I suppose you can guess what happened to my running with my dog fantasies.  I seriously have never met a more hyper and energetic dog so I thought even though he wasn’t a big dog he could handle short runs.  I just never assumed that 2 blocks would be his limit.  I took him out, he ran a few blocks at 100 mph dragging me behind him then abruptly stopped and laid down and refused to walk another step.  I had to carry him home.  A few brazen escapes – and an almost escape where he got his head caught in the picket fence and I finally concluded the dog doesn’t like to run, he likes to run away.

A few years ago my husband and I were out of town and my brother was staying at our house and watching the dog.  My brother called to tell me he had taken Skip for a run and that he – not surprisingly – lasted less than half a mile and then pooped out.  About a half hour later my brother called again and told me this, “your dog just ate my running shorts then threw them up on my running shoes, why would he do that?” “Well” I said, “Probably because he doesn’t want to go running.”  But if you want to hang out with him and go completely berserk when the sheepdog down the street walks by, he’s totally up for that.

Now when I see people running with their dogs I have two explanations.  1) Mirage: I can’t possibly be seeing a dog running alongside its owner and not attempting to bite her ankles 2) Robot: No real live dog would do that.  Real live dogs are home chewing the cord off your laptop.

Here’s a song for your dog’s running (away) mix.